Green Eyes
by sharkswillruledaWORLD
Summary: Because he had no one one to understand his heartache. Because she had no one to understand her yearn. Because together they made something beautiful. AU


_**Green Eyes**_

**Disclaimer:**** I don't own Naruto. This story is going to happen in an alternate universe.**

He was the disgrace of his clan. He was the error of his village. He was the fault in his parents. He was the fallen samurai. He was the one who brought shame not only to his clan and village, but also to the one for whom he worked. He was let go by his master, his _previous_ master. And that was the most dishonorable act that could occur to any self-respecting samurai. And for him, he who used to be the pride and joy of his parents. He who once was the future of his clan. He who used to be the hero of his village. He who used to be the most trusted guard of his master.

_Used to be._

It was all in the past now. He might as well have committed the seppuku, were it not for his master's last order. He was roaming the earth, in search for somewhere to live his last days, however many they may be. He traveled the world from its highest mountains to its hottest deserts, from the land of Water to the land of Moon passing through the land of Hot Waters, the land of Tea, the land of Iron and so many others. No one wanted him. No one wanted the services of a ronin, despite the respect his presence used to demand. He had to live off the forest animals and the occasional small fishes fom the rivers he crossed during his travels, sometimes selling the deer he caught or the fur of tigers and bears. And thus he lived, until he arrived to a quaint, small village in the outskirts of the land of River.

_And then he paused._

It had been one of those days. Those days that seemed to never end. Those days that dragged on and on, draining your life force. And the night had been even more unbearable. The memories had been too much, too vivid, too _reel._ After restlessly laying on his bed for the most part of the night, he decided to go down to the local bar. Perhaps a few shots would help him sleep, forget that he used to despise any alcoholic beverage. The bar in and of itself had been a contradiction. He had expected rowdy men, drinking away their sorrow and bitterness, fighting for the attention of the relatively young geishas or simply fighting for the fight itself. What he got, much to his surprise, was a group of men and even women sitting in silence, listening to the soft voice of the geisha standing on stage. They were watching her with soft eyes, as if proud of her, of what she was doing. He noticed the lack of lust-filled eyes. Perhaps they knew her, which wouldn't be too surprising seen the small size of the remote village.

_And he saw her. _

What he had thought of as standing was in fact a slow dance. She was just starting her dance. And as soon as he laid eyes on her, he was mesmerized. She had soft pink hair pulled in an intricate chignon, with pearls dangling off the side. On her forehead was a small teal diamond, shining brightly under the spotlight. Her movements were fluent, graceful, flowing from a stance to another. His dark eyes followed the soft lull of her arms, as her hands turned grasping lightly the two fansto the naked eye. However his reputation was not vain nor was it illusory, hence he could see the small pulsing veins in her hands as they tightly held on them. It was the only thing betraying her nervousness. She was a slender woman in her late teens, wearing a dark red kimono, a color much more pronounced than the image that her innocent face gave.

_And he saw the green eyes._

He racked his eyes over her body, drinking in the smallest details, until his eyes rested on her heart-shaped face. He was surprised -to say the least- when he noticed the great lack of makeup hiding her features. Her face was not painting the classic white, though her mouth was of a rich red. This indicated that she was either an experienced geisha nor a young maiko. Her thick eyelashes only served to highlight the depth of her green eyes. They were a stunning green shining of their own volition, going in different shades of green upon which angle she bowed her head and from which side the light hit her face. If he could say anything was that her eyes were ethereal. They shone brightly with pride and confidence which her small hands betrayed. They danced with merriment and joy, as if dancing on the stage was her pass to freedom. As if standing there was the only way for the petite woman could enjoy life.

_She was the girl. _

Her mother died on childbirth and her father went to war, without any sign of life nor return. She had lived off the streets, though not so much considering the old woman who had taken her in. However she disliked being caged in the old house at the foot of the mountain. She preferred running through the streets with the other kids, or through the forest with the different animals. After all her best friend and confident was a monkey, much to the amusement of the villagers. She had always been the girl running with the boys, dirtying herself again and again, despite the numerous complaints of the old woman. It only lasted until her sixteenth birthday, during which she had come to learn how to be a normal girl, dancing, singing, serving tea, and so many other things she had disliked. All except from singing and dancing.

_Who danced. _

She had come to love the art of dance and had begun learning how to play many an instrument, leaving the old woman to die happily. She had come to cherish the art and had found solace in music that no one had been able to offer. Her songs expressed what her words could never let on, what they could never explain in obvious clarity. And the village that had watched her grow up from the small tomboy running through the streets and leaving a mess wherever she went to the fine lady singing on stage, was now admiring her voice and her dancing. She turned some of the most simple songs into grand pieces of art. She was a genius on her own, leading her public with her voice and movements, making them feel what she wanted, holding a power over them that no one seemed to realize.

_And sang._

It was a night like any other. Only it was the night she performed until the first signs of sunrise. She loved her village, she truly did, though many a night she would dream of exploring the world, see the other lands and sing for the entirety of the world, enchant other people with her voice and mesmerize those who cared to listen. The only anchor to her village was that she found no one who could help her reach the fame that each and every villagers promised her. And thus that night she had sung of forgotten lands and treasures, of forbidden lovers and mistresses. Of love and hate. Of drama and laugh. Of sadness and joy. And her public cried with her, smiled a joyful grin and wept the occasional tear. They were hanging on her words, following the stories her songs told, dreaming of the promised lands of which her words spoke and of the treasures they waxed lyrical.

_And then she saw him._

He had entered the bar, barely perturbing the focus her public had on her. He was a dark mysterious man, tall and lean. He had jet black hair and even darker eyes. His face was shadowed though she could feel his eyes on her form. From his clothes she could guess that he was a samurai. However he had come in alone. And she immediately understood that he was let go by his master. And inexplicably her heart lurched at the thought. She knew how samurai regarded their master and work. How they valued their code of honor and of their bravery. She had sung of ronin and of princesses, of their forbidden love and of their tragedies. And sometimes when she felt particularly happy and content with her life, she sang of their happy ending. And a small part of her -that was slowly expanding- wished to be the princess of that ronin, the one with whom he could share his own happy ending.

_And black met green._

It was such a cliché thing to happen for the world to stop when their eyes met for the first time. Such a cliché thing to happen for her breath to get caught up and for his eyes to darken. Such a cliché thing to happen for his breath to get hitched and for her mouth to dry. Such a cliché thing for her eyes to never leave his for the rest of the night. Such a cliché moment for their love to start. And though she disliked being unoriginal, and though he disliked being too sappy or romantic, and though they tried not to look at each other, they both were happy for the way it happened. And so the night continued, her soft voice lulling her public and enchanting the newcomer and mesmerizing him. Because he cared to listen to what her song told, to what her heart yearned for, to what she had always wanted. Because she cared to listen to what his eyes told her, to what his heart longed for, to what he continually wished for.

_And yin and yang finally reunited._

Because they were what the other needed, what the other lacked, what the other ached for. Because they were each other's rock. Because they were incomplete without the other. Because of their hearts of gold, because of their love, because of who they were, they managed to make something beautiful. They were a constellation. She was his moon and his stars in the black abyss that was his life. He was the sun that lighted her sky, the sunshine that filled the empty place that was her heart. She taught him how to love. He showered her in his love and put joy in her face. She eased his pain and load. He made her yearn for nothing. She didn't want to be broken. He didn't want to face the world in tears. They were something purer than the water, warmer than the sun and sweeter than honey. They were an explosion of emotions, a firework of love.

_And their hearts beat to one rhythm._

**-0-0-0-**

**Hello world, hope you're listening...**

**So a one-shot featuring only one of my favorite couple. An unplanned project but this idea wouldn't leave me alone until I began typing anything of significance. Though it was majorly influenced by 'Green Eyes' by Coldplay, 'Rhythm of The Night' by Bastille and 'Chasing Cars' by Snow Patrol.**

**For those following my other works:**

**Daughter of the Two Worlds, I've already written a little bit more than a thousand words but any who have read it knows I won't be satisfied until it has reached at least 3,000.**

**A Cherry Blossom's Life, I've reached a standstill until I can decide how to write the chapter, as it's one of the major, humongous changing points of the story. **

**I promise I've not abandoned any of the two aforementioned stories, but I admit that whenever my interest is piked by anything at all, I completely obsess -well not ****_completely_**** but I drop pretty much everything else and focus on that one thing, such as the Harry Potter fics during one point *cough*majority*cough* of this year, and now it's the BBC Sherlock serie. But no worries, this slight ****_obsession _****of mine is starting to dwindle, so I hope I can provide a new chapter soon...er. **

**Bref, I hope you enjoyed this small story as much as I enjoyed typing it. Don't forget to review or PM me for any question, criticism or anything. **

**SharkswillruledaWORLD is out :)**

**P.S: the beginning line of this A/N is from 'Come Home' by OneRepublic.**


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